


Warmth

by SilenceWanderer



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Female Pronouns for Narukami Arashi, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-18 04:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceWanderer/pseuds/SilenceWanderer
Summary: Fics written for izumako week.





	1. Games

**Author's Note:**

> I usually stick to last name for Yuuki but since it’ll probably come off as awkward with the difference in names, it’ll be Makoto for this series.  
I’ve never written izumako before, so I’m open to canon story suggestions I should read to be better with their characters;;  
Sorry it kind of uh... changes flow randomly partway through?  
Sorry it’s so scattered... I had a lot of ideas and not much energy to properly organize them. These aren’t necessarily the Pokemon I think fit them best, it’s more to fit the game they’re playing. I couldn’t fit this in properly but they definitely have a Leafeon and Glaceon! And Arashi has a Sylveon.

The room was quiet aside from the clicking of buttons and mild cursing from Izumi as he sat on the floor against the bed, frowning. His eyes were focused and fixed on the small screen in front of him as he tapped the floor incessantly with a foot. Another grumble, and Makoto sighed from where he sat next to him, leaning back on a pillow. “Need help?”

“I’m fine,” Izumi replied stubbornly, glaring at the screen with eyes narrowed in concentration. “This Sneasel just won’t stay caught, damn thing...” He resumed pressing buttons with heightened ferocity. 

Makoto stifled a laugh. Izumi had protested at first when he had offered him one of his DSs so they could play together, claiming it would be an unnecessary strain on his eyes or that he was content enough just watching Makoto play one of his various games, but he had taken surprisingly quickly to the Pokemon world. Makoto scooted closer, observing the battle from where he leaned on Izumi’s shoulder. Izumi gave him a glance, flustered, and Makoto had to smile at how easily embarrassed he was when it was usually _him_ doing outrageous, embarrassing, over-the-top things, even if he had calmed down to a degree the more time they spent around each other, the more time they’d had to get used to each others’ quirks and habits. 

Izumi’s stare was curious, so Makoto broke from his reverie to point at the screen. “Have you tried paralyzing it? It’ll be easier to catch that way.”

“Paralyzing...” Izumi echoed, tapping on his Pokemon list to switch who was battling. “Luxray can deal with that.” He smiled to himself, eyes dark. “You won’t get away from me, Sneasel.”

Makoto could only laugh a bit awkwardly in response. 

They had started playing older games, Diamond and Pearl, for nostalgia’s sake on Makoto’s part; restarting both accounts, Makoto had given Izumi Diamond. He had looked at it a bit reproachfully at first, unused to its functions and with several complaints (“Why does the professor introduce Pokemon to you? What, he thinks I’m an idiot? Like it’s not called _Pokemon_ Diamond?” “It’s for kids, Izumi-san.” “Then why am I playing it!?”), but he seemed to have gotten used to it, bonding with the Piplup he had chosen as a starter. Makoto had chosen Turtwig himself, and the two were off on their adventure. 

It had started with an hour here and there at first, but by now it was almost a tradition for the two of them to sit down together at the end of a long workday and de-stress a bit by exploring Sinnoh together. Makoto tried to go easy on him when the two inevitably battled, Izumi’s competitive streak flaring as he watched Makoto carefully train his Pokemon, but he tried not to show it; if it was obvious, he knew the other would only continue to try until he scored a victory. 

...So sometimes they settled with going against each other in contests instead. 

Izumi’s main contest Pokemon was his prized Lumineon, paired only with his Buneary (aptly named “Nazunyan”) who gathered their accessories in Amity Square. It was, of course, trained in Beauty; who would expect any less of him? 

Izumi fussed with the accessories until the time ran out. 

They tried not to make it obvious that they were together, given their situation, but Arashi was regardless quick to catch on, sometimes joining in on their contest runs with her beloved Glameow (named “Nyanko”, of course) and Underground shenanigans. It was almost a marvel how they could all switch so fluidly between their work selves and their casual selves, despite having seen it happen since they were all children; Makoto imagined the suave knights on stage, smiling elegantly, and then looked at the two lounging lazily on the floor as Izumi barked at Arashi to “stop putting so many damn traps around my base’s entrance, you nuisance!” to her great amusement as she chortled and put down another trap. If Makoto was being honest, no matter how shining and incredible Knights could be on stage, he kinda preferred them like this; it felt a lot more authentic, with Izumi struggling to hide his grin as he swung at Arashi’s DS and the latter taking full advantage of her added few centimeters to keep it out of his reach. 

It felt peaceful in a way that he felt like he had been missing for a while, a couple years ago. Trickstar had revived him, refilled the air in his lungs and sent him back into the stars, but reconciling with those two—elements that had haunted him at first, cursed remnants of his past—had helped with better being able to cope with that world’s existence again. 

Izumi, breathing hard from his scuffle, turned to look at him, noticing the soft smile that had spread over Makoto’s face as he watched them now. Izumi’s eyes were bright, face a bit flushed, hair a a mess, and that was okay. That was something they were both learning, together. 

But instead of verbalizing any of that, Makoto stretched, shutting his own DS where he’d been catching up on Animal Crossing while the two bickered. “It’s already almost night, huh?” he remarked, and Arashi glanced up to the fading sunset in the window with a worried noise. 

“Gosh, it’s already this late? I do hope the trains are still running,” she sighed, glancing down to save and close her own device, tucking it into her bag. 

“If they’re not, I’ll just drive you,” Izumi remarked with a voice that made it sound like it was common sense. She exaggeratedly shuddered in return. 

“Goodness, that’s something I’d prefer to avoid. Your driving is just scary, Izumi-chan,” she teased.

“Hey!”

After the two had led her to the door, they returned to the room, and Makoto leaned against Izumi again as they settled down with him sleepily watching as Izumi expertly played through the contest dance portion with a ferocity probably unbefitting of a Pokemon game. He laughed to himself, sensing Izumi pause and turn to him a minute later when the round completed. “What is it, Yuu-kun?” he asked, moving a hand to gently brush some hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. Makoto was almost too tired to be embarrassed, just sighing and fixing his eyes back on the screen. 

“I was just thinking you’d make a good contest star,” he said, closing his eyes to imagine. “If we were actually in the Pokemon world.”

“Of course I’d be,” Izumi replied loftily, tapping the screen in what seemed to be a move selection. “That’s unrealistic, though.”

“...I know,” Makoto murmured, voice fuzzy. “But we could travel with our Pokemon, choosing our paths... and end up eventually in a house in Floaro-” His words were cut off by a loud yawn, and he heard Izumi sigh with barely-veiled fondness beside him. 

“You wouldn’t want to live in Sunnyshore instead?” He heard Izumi snap the DS shut and place it down with a small thud on the floor beside them before shifting to nearly embrace Makoto, who had still been leaning. He cracked his eyes open a bit, seeing Izumi twisting to face the window. It had become completely dark while they had been chatting, and despite the nocturnal schedule Makoto sometimes took on during breaks, it had been a long day. He closed his eyes again, hearing Izumi quietly tsk beside him. Shaky arms wrapped around him and plopped him a bit unceremoniously on the bed behind them. 

“You’re getting stronger,” he remarked with only _half_ an intention of humor, and he heard Izumi splutter from where he sat on the bed next to where he’d put Makoto. 

“I’m trying!” he protested offendedly, crossing his arms. Makoto watched him from eyes open just to peek. “You could’ve gotten up yourself, I know that,” he huffed, proceeding to turn around to begin changing into night clothes. Makoto rolled over, sighing as the coolness of the sheets hit his face against the already mild chill of the room. 

“I appreciate it, really,” he assured, sitting up just to take his glasses off and place them neatly on the side table. The room was blurrier now, but he at least tried to talk in the direction of Izumi’s fluffy gray hair. “I bet when we first reunited, you couldn’t pick me up at all!”

“I was just more _dainty_,” he sniffed in return, returning to the bed clad in a loose blue t-shirt and some sweatpants after taking a detour to flick off the lights. Makoto had just a bit of a suspicion that shirt was his, but it seemed like too much energy to comment on it. (He didn’t care as much as he used to, anyway. He’d probably grabbed Izumi’s coat a couple times himself, what with their clothes becoming less separated the longer they spent together.) 

Izumi interrupted his thoughts with a curious noise. “Yuu-kun, you’re not worried about something, are you? You keep staring off into space.” He poked the other’s forehead with little force as he shifted into his usual space. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” Makoto responded, more confident in those words now. “And you can talk to me, too.”

The ever-important even ground that they had tried their best to reach. 

He sighed, looking up towards the ceiling. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about how lucky I feel,” he said sheepishly, moving to pull the covers over himself. “I’m with Trickstar, and also with you and even Narukami. It just feels more peaceful.”

“...You’re right,” Izumi replied, a bit more softly, resting onto his pillow. “Being with you is the best, Yuu-kun... and, well, Knights is fine when they’re not being annoying.” His voice was a bit muffled by the pillow, and Makoto took the cue to flop down on his own, closing his eyes and feeling the fuzziness of sleep return. 

With warmth around him, he dreamed of that small house in Floaroma and Izumi’s gentle voice.


	2. Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the future.

The day started the way it usually did, and had for some time. Izumi and Makoto woke up at varying times, greeted each other, had breakfast, and went over their schedules for the day. Most times, their jobs were separate; with separate units and separate focuses, they didn’t always have room to overlap. 

Today, however, was a little different. 

Izumi frowned a bit as he flipped through the orange half-width calendar on the wall, turning back to look at Makoto, who was still sleepily trying to get through the bowl of miso that remained. “Yuu-kun, you’re scheduled for a photoshoot?” he asked, glancing back at his own calendar that hung to the right of his. “I couldn’t have just written mine into yours, right?”

He was already dressed, in a sharp coat and neat pants that looked official enough to draw attention on the street if he tried. Some dark sunglasses peeked out of his pocket, presumably to use as an attempt at a disguise on the way to work. Makoto personally thought it was a little silly, but somehow endearing at the same time, to use such old tricks when his silvery hair and bright eyes were probably obvious enough to any of his fans, no matter what sunglasses he wore. 

...Not that his attempt at disguise was any better, especially given he was still in his sleepwear. 

Makoto finished the bowl, took a moment to wipe his mouth, and sighed, turning to look at him. “No, I am... besides, you’re usually too meticulous to make mistakes like that, right?” He gathered the empty bowls on the table and brought them to the sink, coming to peek at the schedules over Izumi’s shoulder. Izumi leaned back into him a bit with an air of pretending he didn’t. “We’re going to release a new CD soon, so they wanted us to get pictures taken for the cover.” Makoto strolled over to the sink again to rinse out the bowls so they’d be easier to wash later, leaving Izumi watching him with a conflicted expression. 

“I mean, I’m always happy when you’re able to have pictures taken, Yuu-kun, but...” He hesitated, looking away. “You’re okay with it?” Makoto glanced back at him, trying to make his expression as bright as possible. 

“Better than before, at least! And the rest of Trickstar is with me, too, so it’s not that scary,” he said with a confidence that could have been false but was much less shaky than it used to be. Izumi’s eyes softened, and he looked back at the calendar with an exaggerated sigh. 

“And your dear big brother being there with you wasn’t enough, hm?” he replied more out of habit than in truth, double-checking the calendar again and tapping furiously on his phone before stepping away. “Well, we’ll be in the same place today, then, so let’s go!” 

Makoto tilted his head quizzically. “Is Knights doing something there too?”

Izumi nodded in response, then looked at the two boxes he’d prepared for the day. “Will we be needing these, then? We can just go out for lunch~” His voice was giddy and slightly higher than usual, and he glanced back at Makoto bashfully. Makoto just let out an awkward laugh in return, shrugging. 

“I thought you didn’t like going out? You usually make all ou-... your food, after all,” he mentioned, face burning a bit as he corrected his wording. Izumi’s eyes twinkled in a way that looked like he wouldn’t be forgetting that slip any time soon, but he didn’t poke at it now. 

“That’s true, but you have places you like to try things, right? Sweets with cutesy names and all that,” he countered, hands on his hips. “Besides, we almost _never_ have time to see each other during the day...” he grumbled, giving the schedules a vindictive glance. 

“I guess if we end up having overlapping breaks,” Makoto decided, focusedly looking down at his hand as he ran through the routine. “...I just need to grab that, and... ah, take one of the boxes with you, Izumi. You’re not going to eat even if we go somewhere, right?” He tried not to bring too much attention to the honorific he’d been skipping much more as of late, now that they were, well... like this. 

Or as Izumi would call it, “looking like newlyweds,” even if they weren't, really. 

(Not yet. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that Izumi wasn’t overestimating his worth, anyway.)

Izumi looked to the side, hesitating. “It’ll be enough watching you have fun eating, Yuu-kun,” he replied testily. 

Makoto gave him a scathing look in response. “No. We agreed.”

Izumi looked torn between wanting to argue and wanting to poke at his insolence, but he just sighed. “Yes, yes. Now scurry along and grab your stuff, Yuu-kun. If you linger too long here, we won’t be able to leave together.” He made shoo-ing motions with his hand and turned away, other hand at his chin in thought. 

“I know, I’m going,” Makoto replied, taking a moment to pat Izumi’s head as he passed in a way he knew would make him splutter. Not enough to mess up his hair, but _just enough_ to make a point of his height. 

As the quiet whine of “Yuu-kun...!” followed him on his way to the bedroom, he laughed to himself. Izumi needed to loosen up _someday_... and he kinda wanted to be part of what made that happen, just a bit. 

As they exited the house together, Izumi took one of Makoto’s hands, giving it a small squeeze before letting it fall, dejected at the inability to keep that hold going for all of their walk. Makoto merely smiled, half practiced and half remorseful, and brushed his lips against Izumi’s cheek before pulling him outside with the promise of “someday”.

(And Izumi even ate a spoon of that parfait during that small break; progress with all the bashful sweetness of a stray dollop of whipped cream that stuck to his nose, and the ability to laugh at yourself.

Progress that they took together, step by step.)


End file.
